2,711 pages of Talmud. A gem a day.

On today’s daf, the rabbis are discussing the gid ha-nasheh, the sciatic nerve, and one of the fascinating ideas that comes up is the concept of a beriah—literally, a “creature” or “whole entity.” There are certain things that, because they are considered a complete, distinct thing, cannot simply disappear into a mixture. You can have a huge quantity of permitted food, but a whole, identifiable thing carries a different kind of significance.

We spend so much of our lives as part of something larger: families, congregations, communities, teams, organizations, nations. There is comfort in belonging to something bigger than ourselves. But sometimes being part of the whole can make us forget that we are also distinct.

You don’t lose your significance simply because you are surrounded by a lot of other things.

We don’t have to disappear into the crowd to belong. We can be part of something larger while still remaining fully ourselves.

If you are what you eat, can we learn a lesson on holiness from our food?

The Merciful One revealed in the Torah with regard to the sin offering: “Whatever shall touch its flesh shall be holy” (Leviticus 6:20). This teaches that the halakhic status of any food that touches and absorbs flavor from a sin offering becomes like it.

While this passage is discussing if food that has touched sacrificial food can only be eaten by priests, or if it can be eaten by anyone, there seems to be something different and beautiful also being taught: That holiness is something we might touch. That holiness might rub off on us. That we can take holiness with us if we only allow ourselves to get close enough.

Today’s gem is a quick, and good rule of thumb: we do not learn principles from a novelty.

That person who is doing the wrong thing? Don’t follow their example. Those Circ de Solel dancers? Don’t think that we’re all that flexible. That amazing deal? Don’t expect it everywhere you go. That amazing person you find? Don’t keep shopping – they’re novel, lock it down.

We learned previously in the Talmud that if a forbidden food falls into a mixture then as long as it’s 1/60 and does not impart any flavor, we can ignore the forbidden thing. Today, we learn that we may need some help from our non-Jewish friends to see if the forbidden item imparts flavor.

Ravin bar Rav Adda said: That was a case of a small, non-kosher fish known as kilkhit, which fell into a stewpot [ilpas], and they came to ask Rabbi Yoḥanan about its status. And he said to them: Let a gentile cook [kapeila] taste it in order to determine whether the flavor of the non-kosher fish has permeated the entire mixture.

Why this is my gem is that this passage was written in a time of tensions between Jews and non-Jews, and yet you see that there were non-Jews who were trusted and part of the Jewish community.

The gem? We can get buy with a little help from our friends.

He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me he loves me not . . .

How many times have you checked with a Magic 8 Ball? Flipped a coin? Or plucked petals from a flower to decide if you should do something or not (or if he loves you ro not)?

While we are not supposed to practice divination, even our rabbis took things as good or bad signs.

Here we see what they did and the difference. The Gemara asks: But doesn’t Rav say that any divination that is not like the divination of Eliezer, the servant of Abraham, when he went to seek a bride for Isaac (see Genesis 24:14), or like the divination of Jonathan, son of Saul, who sought an omen as to whether he and his arms bearer would defeat the Philistines (see I Samuel 14:8–12), is not divination?

That’s what we shouldn’t do, now here is their own personal “signs” they used to make decisions.

Rav would check whether to travel based upon the ferry; if it came quickly he would take the ferry, but otherwise he would not. And Shmuel would check what would happen to him by opening a scroll and reading from wherever it was open to. Rabbi Yoḥanan would check what was in store for him by asking a child to recite the verse he was learning.

. . .It is taught in a baraita: Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar says: With regard to one who is successful with his first business transaction after he has built a home, after the birth of a child, or after he marries a woman, even though he may not use this as a means of divination to decide upon future courses of action, it is an auspicious sign that he will continue to be successful. Conversely, if his first transaction is not successful he may take that as an inauspicious sign.

The lesson? Even they knew, intellectually, that these “signs” did not mean anything, but we really just can’t stop ourselves can we? My gem is even the rabbis, in all their wisdom and faith, wish they could know the future and had firm guidance on even small decisions.

Reform alert!!! What’s that? Well, many orthodox believe that the halakhah never changes, but on today’s daf, it does!

The mishna stated (89b): Butchers are not deemed credible to say that the sciatic nerve was removed; this is the statement of Rabbi Meir. And the Rabbis say: They are deemed credible about the sciatic nerve. Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba says that Rabbi Yoḥanan says: The Rabbis initially held that butchers are not deemed credible about the sciatic nerve, and subsequently they retracted and said that butchers are deemed credible in this regard. Rav Naḥman said to him: Have the later generations improved such that butchers are more reliable than they were in earlier generations? The Gemara answers: Initially, when the Rabbis held in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Meir that one must scrape around the flesh in order to remove the roots of the sciatic nerve, butchers were not deemed credible, due to the exertion involved in this process. But later the Rabbis held in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Yehuda that it is unnecessary to scrape around the flesh. Consequently, removing the sciatic nerve is not especially arduous, and butchers are deemed credible to say that they removed it.

We see on our daf that the opinion of if one could trust a butcher to remove the sciatic nerve or not change (one reform). We also that the rabbis change whose opinion the law goes by (another reform).

Besides showing off that Reform Judaism is legitimate. There is another gem. The rabbis recognize that we are shaped by the habits of the communities around us. When careful practice becomes the norm, people are more likely to do the right thing without constant oversight. (Like those butchers for whom the standard practice became the kosher practice.)

That’s a wonderful Jewish gem: character is often communal before it is individual. We spend so much energy asking, “How do I become a better person?” The Talmud asks another question: “What kind of community makes goodness the default?”

You might not know it, but YOU might be saving the world.

On our daf today, we learn something a bit shocking:

.The verse states: “A ḥomer of barley, and a half-ḥomer of barley.” A ḥomer equals thirty se’a, and a half-ḥomer equals fifteen se’a, totaling forty-five se’a; these are the forty-five righteous individuals in whose merit the world continues to exist.

45. that’s it! If not for these 45 individuals, the world would end. If you’re like me, you may second guess that number. That’s because Hassidic Judaism popularized this idea, that the world is sustained by a few righteous individuals who make humanity worth saving, but the number they give is 36, an they call them the Lamed Vav Tzadikim or Lamed Vavniks for short.

What’s so beautiful about this idea, is that the righteous ones don’t know that their the righteous ones, they are goodness just because that’s who they are.

So, who knows? YOU might be one of the 36, or 45. So, don’t slack off 🙂

A cute story, with a great message. When Jacob leaves home and sleeps in the wilderness (and has a dream of a ladder reaching to heaven with angels coming up and down), we are told he put “stones under his head.” However when he wakes it says “he took the stone.” Where did the other stones go? Our daf teaches:

Rabbi Yitzḥak says: This teaches that all those stones gathered to one place and each one said: Let this righteous man place his head upon me. And it was taught: And all of them were absorbed into one large rock.

Each stone wants the privilege of supporting Jacob. They aren’t trying to knock him down or outshine one another; they all want to be part of something holy. Lesson 1: the holiest communities are those where people combine their efforts rather than compete for recognition. Which leads to lesson 2: The stones are just scattered rocks until they all desire the same thing: to support Jacob. That common purpose transforms them into a single stone. We become unified not by being identical, but by orienting ourselves toward the same sacred goal. Lesson 3 is perhaps the most profound: everything in creation longs to be part of holiness. We all want our lives to count for something bigger than ourselves. The question isn’t whether we long for significance—it’s what we choose to support.

May we all come together for a holy purpose.